


The Life of A Renegade Is Hard, But Not for the Reasons You've Been Led to Believe

by AntagonizedPenguin



Series: How Best to Use a Sword [19]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Daddy kink with your actual dad, Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, Is it daddy kink if you're fucking your actual dad, It's actually sex sap but hey, M/M, Oral Sex, Piercings, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntagonizedPenguin/pseuds/AntagonizedPenguin
Summary: John is having a rough time lately. He's single, lonely, and his zombie pirates were stolen by an evil wizard, and then the evil wizard was stolen by an even more evil sorcerer, which puts him in mortal danger.And then to make matters worse, his parents' garden plants decide to dose him with an unhealthy dose of a libido-enhancing sap.Fortunately, John's dad Kyle is there to help. And he has no intention of letting his baby boy suffer.
Series: How Best to Use a Sword [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/309633
Comments: 93
Kudos: 151





	1. The Life of A Renegade Is Hard, But Not for the Reasons You've Been Led to Believe

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I wouldn't have any more stories in the main series but...we all knew that was a lie. I had this idea and couldn't let it go, so here it is! So here is my Father's Day gift to all of you!
> 
> Do make sure to read the tags on this before proceeding, just so you know what you're getting into. Consent is dubious because of sex pollen, not for lack of enthusiasm. 
> 
> In terms of the overall series, this story is taking place a month or so in the past of the main timeline--John has just reappeared in the main series, and this is the story of how he got to where he is now. I hope you all enjoy!

John was in a pissy mood, and he knew it. He’d been snapping at his sister and snarking at his parents for a few days now, enough that they were mostly leaving him alone. He knew he was being childish, he really did. But he was also pissed off.

He’d made two artificial souls. Literally made them from nothing but power and ideas, in a shed. He’d had to anchor them to his own, but he’d done it. That was so hard it was basically impossible, and John had done it. And he’d put them into two corpses that he’d had lying around, and John had created life. Artificial life. 

And then it had been stolen from him. Some creature called the Sea King had shown up out of nowhere, ruined the nice piracy gig John had had going on, and _stolen_ Hammerhead and Alanna. Broken his control over them, made off with them, and turned them into his servants instead of John’s.

John had made the necromantic breakthrough of a lifetime and it had been stolen from him by some asshole with nice teeth. And he’d gone there. He’d followed the thread that connected him to Hammerhead and Alanna, and he’d gone there to negotiate to get them back. And he’d been met with an offer to work for the Sea King. As a servant. 

And then, as if it wasn’t bad enough, the castle had been destroyed, and now the Sea King and the pirates were far in the east somewhere. There was no point going to them again, not alone. And mom and dad wouldn’t help him; they hadn’t approved from the beginning. He might be able to convince Kay to come with him, but she wasn’t powerful enough for what he’d need.

The part of it that killed John wasn’t actually the part that might literally kill him. The Sea King had stolen the pirates from him and not severed the link to his own soul, which was probably because he couldn’t. Which meant that John couldn’t just write them off as a loss and start again—if something happened to them, he could die.

But the worst part was when he heard his mother’s voice in his head saying she’d told him that would happen just fine without her actually saying it.

John was taking a walk to clear his head. Not because walks cleared his head, but laying in bed jerking off wasn’t helping, glaring at the ceiling and the walls wasn’t helping, throwing stuff in the ocean wasn’t helping, and it wasn’t like John wanted to go anywhere. He didn’t have enough in him to make more artificial souls, and he couldn’t be bothered going out and finding people to turn into corpses. 

So he was taking a walk through the garden, as if the stupid plants could calm him down. He should weed or water them or something, but he wasn’t in the mood. Kay could do it later, she was better at it anyway.

He liked living on this island, actually. He’d hated it at first, but he was pretty sure that was mostly because of how they’d come here, and because they hadn’t all come together. James hadn’t come with them like mom and dad had said he would. And John had been mad about that for a long time. But he’d gotten over it. It wasn’t his parents’ fault James was a loser. 

The island was better than the forest by a lot. It wasn’t as eerily quiet, and there weren’t as many animals. A lot of birds, colourful ones that John liked watching. It made up for the insects, which were big and kind of cool when they didn’t fucking bite. There was also the fuck-off scary centipedes, but they all stayed away from those except when they couldn’t. 

Maybe he’d go for a swim, John thought. He liked swimming in the ocean—it was invigorating, even if the salt was a bitch to wash off after. Yeah, he’d do that. Maybe it would make him feel better if he… “Fuck,” he muttered, tripping over a root of some plant or another, stumbling into yet another. He should have been looking where he was going and…

And now his clothes were covered in goop. Great, of course it had to be one of the plants that spat goop. At least it wasn’t on his face, though he was going to get blamed for wasting whatever…

“Oh, fuck you,” John said, looking down at himself. His clothes were dissolving, and yes, that was the castlesbane that he’d bumped into. Fucking fantastic. It could dissolve metal too, so John pulled his clothes away from his body before the goop could get on his piercings. Those would be a bitch to replace, and even more of a bitch to dig out if half of them melted while he had them in. 

Fortunately they seemed okay when he checked them. Both nipples, his navel, the three bars in his dick, the one in his sac. His ears and eyebrow were fine, the goop hadn’t hit his face. Which was good, since castlesbane syrup would also dissolve hair. John took a step back, glaring at the castlesbane. “Stupid thing.” It was lucky its syrup was good as the base for potions, otherwise he’d just kill it. But his parents would never let him hear the end of it, so he didn’t, just turning to get away from it before it got any more ideas, and…

And he got a face full of other goop from another plant. “What the fuck,” he asked, some of it in his mouth. It was sweet, a nectar that tasted a bit like fruit. He wiped it off his face as the plant shot on his chest and legs as well, coating him in this yellow shit that…

Oh, shit. That was the Goldwage. Useful for salves that played with brain chemistry, good if one wanted a potion that would cure skin diseases. 

And in undiluted form, a sexual stimulant. “Shit.”

He needed to wash this off. John picked up the scraps of his clothes that hadn’t dissolved, used them to wipe what he could from his chest, his face. He found the watering can and poured it on himself to get it all off. It was too late, the sap was activated through contact with the skin. But if he could minimize that, go wash off quickly, he’d be fine as long as he jerked off a few times. If he didn’t, his balls would swell and possibly burst, which didn’t sound fun. 

John’s cock was already hard as a tree trunk by the time he wrapped his hand around it, not bothering to be gentle or polite with himself as he started stroking. He licked two fingers and stuck them up his ass with no preparation. Prostate orgasms flushed the system faster than regular ones, he remembered that. He remembered this mortifying lesson from when he’d been a kid. 

So John got down on his knees, fingering his ass as he tried to find his prostate, jerking off to release the immediate tension. He couldn’t find it. He’d never been good at finding it on his own. Gus had been good at finding it, and Hammerhead too. Hell, even the Sea King had found it the one time they’d fucked. All the guys he’d fucked down in Pungja, everyone. But John could never find the fucking thing on his own. It was…

John came, cum thick and heavier than usual, splattering the garden soil in six long shots. He didn’t stop jerking off. This crap was going to having him doing this all fucking afternoon now. He was so pissed off at himself but he didn’t have time for that. He dug around in his ass, trying so hard to find the stupid prostate, why was so it so hard to _reach_ on his own?

“John?”

John looked up, flushed from head to toe, caught. It was his dad. Fuck, his dad was standing right there, watching him. “I…I…Goldwage sap,” he managed to say. “Got all over me…”

“Oh, fuck,” Dad said, coming over and kneeling beside him, even though that was the last thing John needed right now. He put his hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll go make you the tincture to cure it, but…”

“Takes six hours,” John grunted, nodding. He shut his eyes, tried to ignore that his dad was right here watching him masturbate, two fingers buried to the knuckle in his asshole. “I can…I can manage…”

“Does it hurt?” Dad asked. He sounded worried. John was worried too. His balls were already aching. So he nodded. “You need to massage the prostate. It’s more effective than just touching yourself.”

“I know,” John snapped. “I can’t fucking find it.” 

“Okay.” Dad reached down, pulled John’s hand away from his ass. “I’ll help you.” 

“H-help…”

“I can’t have you getting hurt, son,” Dad said, and without further ado, his own fingers replaced John’s. John gasped. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You need help and you’d rather me than your mom, right?”

“Oh, fuck,” John muttered. He’d so much rather his dad than his mom. If John had to pick a parent to have an inappropriate sexual liaison with under the influence of a libido-enhancing substance, it was definitely his dad in every iteration of that equation.

“That’s what I thought.” Dad slid his fingers in further, and he hit it. John gasped. “There it is.” 

John nodded, and he sat there, letting dad massage him inside for…he didn’t know. He came again, and they kept going. He stopped jerking off, since it barely did anything anyway.

Dad wrapped his other arm around John, hugging him from the side while he fingered him. John took comfort from that. It was nice. Dad was whispering in his ear. “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be all right, son. Don’t worry, baby boy, daddy’s here…”

John came a third time with a whimper, pushing his hips back onto his dad’s hand. “M-more…” he asked, quiet. 

Dad put another finger in, finger fucking John now, but at a slow pace. Pacing himself was important, John knew that. He gripped Dad’s arm to avoid jerking off again, leaning back into his dad’s broad chest. It was better this way. Dad smelled nice, like that paint he liked. “Dad…”

“It’s okay, John. You’re okay.”

“I w-want…I want…”

“What do you want, baby boy?”

John felt a tear on his face. He wanted it so bad. It was his dad. He didn’t care. “I want more.” 

“You want another finger?”

John shook his head. “Pl-please…”

“You have to tell me what you want, son.” Dad said, calm as can be.

“I want you to fuck me!” 

The garden seemed quiet after that, and Dad stopped moving his fingers. “Okay,” he said, pulling them out. He let go of John, leaving John afraid for a moment. He’d just outed himself a freak who wanted to fuck his dad. He was going to be left here to suffer and he deserved it for being so _stupid_ , and…

And his dad was back, hand on John’s back. “Open your eyes, baby.” 

John did with difficulty, and there was his dad, shirt off, dick out, hard. Dad looked at him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

John nodded without hesitation. He didn’t even care. He didn’t care that it was his dad, or that he was being pathetic. He wanted it so bad. He needed it so bad.

“Okay then.” Dad smiled, pulling him down a little by the shoulders. “You’re going to need to get it all wet, then.”

John leaned forward, taking his dad’s cock into his mouth and sucking on it hungrily. It tasted strong, like his dad was, and John licked it all over, every bit of it, the head, the shaft, getting it wet, but he didn’t let go. His balls were burning, but John didn’t stop sucking his dad’s cock, greedily taking the whole thing into his mouth, irrationally proud of himself when he sucked it down to the root on the first try.

This wasn’t what he needed to do, John knew dimly. He was just wetting it so it could go in his ass, where he really wanted it, but now that he was here, John didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to let go. The guys in Pungja had thought that eating cum made you stronger, especially if you did it while you were still growing. A lot of them had sucked their dads off all the time. John had thought it was weird at the time. Now he got it, suddenly. He wasn’t growing anymore, but he was still going to drink his dad’s cum and he was going to like it.

“Baby boy, John…” Dad said, hands in John’s hair. He certainly didn’t want John to stop either, so John didn’t, sucking harder, hollowing out his cheeks.

And a few seconds later his dad suddenly thrust right into his mouth, and he rewarded John’s work by cumming right into his throat, pulling after two shots to pour the rest right into his mouth. John was in heaven, smiling as he swallowed it all down. He sucked on his dad for a few seconds after he was done, just to get the rest of it. And when Dad finally got him to pull off, John smiled up at him, happy with himself. 

Dad looked happy too, petting John’s hair, then stroking a hand down his face. “You’re very good at that.”

John grinned, not sure what else to do.

“Okay,” said Dad, moving around behind John, keeping his hand on him. John felt him kneel down behind, hands on his ass, briefly tracing the tattoo there, a set of fangs, one on each cheek, making John shiver. Then Dad spread his cheeks. “Get ready, baby boy.”

John did, relaxing, trying to breathe normally. He needed it so bad. And his dad gave it to him, pressing his cock against John’s hole and then, in a quick movement, pushing it in. He got halfway and then stopped, letting John recover. Then he pulled out, started to thrust again. 

It took him five thrusts to get all the way in, and the second his hips touched John’s, John came again, just as much as he’d shot the first time spurting onto the garden soil. Dad was hugging him from behind, stroking the piercing in his navel. “Doing okay, baby boy?”

John nodded, doing more than okay. “M-more…” Dad was nestled right up against his prostate. 

“Okay.” Dad lowered him down, getting him onto his hands and knees, and he started moving, thrusting firm and strong. He moved back up, leaving John there, gripping John’s hips as he fucked him. “Like this?”

“Harder,” John said immediately. He clenched around his dad. “Harder, please.”

Dad fucked him harder, faster, now. “Your ass is fantastic, baby boy.”

John whimpered at the compliment. “Th-thank you…”

“All those guys you rented it out to must have loved it too,” Dad grunted.

“I…” John just nodded. He hadn’t rented it. It hadn’t been like that. Not really. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Dad said, running a hand down John’s back. “I’m not mad. It makes me, ah, it makes me happy that you got so good before coming to me…”

John whinged a wordless cry. “D-dad…”

“What’s the matter?”

John shook his head. Nothing was the matter. Everything was perfect. “Do it harder.”

“Harder?”

“Yes!”

“Like this?” Dad gave a super hard thrust, then another. He was fucking John like a hammer now. “You like this, baby boy?”

John nodded, whole body tense as fuck. “Yes, yes, yes…” he was getting close again, his prostate getting rammed. “I love it, da..daddy!”

Dad came at that word as if he’d been waiting for it, slamming deep inside John and shooting, pulling out and slamming in again. That second slam pushed John over the edge and he came again with a loud shout, making fists in the dirt as his orgasm was pulled from him by his daddy’s cock.

He was weak all over, his dad’s hands on his hips the only thing holding any part of him up. John wanted to lay here in the dirt and feel this way forever. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, even if he was still hard as a tree. That just meant he’d get to feel it for even longer. Days, maybe.

But he couldn’t. They weren’t alone anymore. “What the hell?”

She was angry, that was clear. John looked up, fear spiking through his chest, saw her standing there, wand in hand, staring at them, aghast. He felt like he should say something, explain himself, explain that it was a misunderstanding. 

But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was, “Hi, mom.”


	2. Treatment for Exposure to Dangerous Substances Can Sometimes Be Pretty Nice

The floor of the shed was not a place John had ever imagined having sex before the last few days. The shed was for working in, for building things, and sure, he’d jerked off in here a few times, because who hadn’t jerked off in their parents’ shed? But he’d never figured he’d have sex in here, at least not before he’d started imagining sex _everywhere_. 

And yet here he was, on his back, knees on his shoulders, getting fucked on the floor of the shed. By his dad. It felt so dirty, so wrong. Like they were hiding, even though mom knew about it. Like it was a nasty little secret, even though it felt so right, and good.

“Daddy…”

Dad’s grip on his thighs was so strong it was going to leave marks. John wanted that. He smiled down at John, sweat on his brow. They’d been at it for a while. “Come on, baby boy. You can do it.” 

John nodded, focusing. He knew he could, even if it hurt. It was important for him to do this. He clenched around dad, focusing on the feeling, in his belly, in his ass, in his dick, everywhere, his heart pounding in his ears and his back sore from rubbing against the wood floor. And after a minute or two of that, John came with a whimper, shooting a load of cum that was less than his usual amount. 

“Good work,” Dad said, pulling out. He hadn’t cum, at least not in the last little while. He let John’s legs down, reached off to the side. He rubbed John’s belly and chest down with a wet cloth, then his thighs, his buttcheeks, his hole especially. John shivered with every touch. Cum was still going to leak out from before, but that was okay. “How you doing, baby boy?”

John nodded, feeling nice and calm. And not horny in that all-encompassing, mind-clouding way that he had been, which was nice. It turned out he’d swallowed some of the Goldwage sap, which meant that its effects were lingering and would for another day or two. And though he wasn’t as hard-off as he had been when he’d been doused, John still needed to cum almost constantly, he still couldn’t leave his prostate untouched for an hour. He was still in a state of absolute misery every second he went without daddy’s cock.

He didn’t know exactly what his mom and dad had talked about after she’d found them in the garden. Well, he guessed he knew _what_ they’d talked about. But after they’d put him in the shed, they’d gone in the house John had only been able to vaguely hear mom yelling over the sound of his own breath as he futilely tried to replicate what he’d felt in the garden with his own fingers. Dad had come back after a while, told him everything was going to be fine, and given him a tincture to drink. John had been drinking it with his food several times a day, and he hadn’t had the courage to actually ask dad if mom knew what they were doing together every time he took his medicine. She probably did. 

Once he was done cleaning John, Dad wiped off his dick with the rag and moved over to his shoulders, lifting John’s head up. “You ready for lunch?”

“Yeah,” John said, opening his mouth. Dad slid his cock inside, and John started sucking hungrily as soon as it was on his tongue. Now that he was mostly lucid and not totally controlled by the Goldwage, he knew that his dad wasn’t just giving him a hand because he needed it. Sucking daddy’s cock was not part of his treatment, it was just fun. Daddy liked it, and John liked making daddy happy. 

So he sucked, and not for long. Not with how long his thing had been in his ass without cumming before. Soon he had daddy spasming, thrusting into his mouth, and cumming on his tongue. “That’s a good boy. There’s my baby boy…”

John smiled, swallowing his baby brothers and sisters, and let dad help him sit up. “Thank you, daddy.” 

“You’re welcome, baby boy.” Dad pulled his lunch over, tearing off a piece of bread for him. “Open.” 

John did, and sat there happily while his dad hand-fed him his entire lunch, including the small vial after that contained his dessert. Dad wiped some crumbs from John’s mouth, his thumb lingering in the part of John’s lips for a second. It was quiet, and intimate, and not the kind of experience he’d had with anyone else he’d been with. It was really nice. It was so nice he wanted to cry, a little bit, his eyes watering a little bit. 

“You okay, baby boy?” Dad asked softly.

John nodded, blinking his tears away. “Yeah. I’m good. Everything’s great, daddy.” He managed not to gather any more tears, and dad didn’t press him; he just sat there and ate his lunch until he was full.

“There you go,” dad said, patting John’s belly. “Feel better?”

John nodded again. “Yes, daddy.” 

Dad smiled, hand moving down. “You’re not hard again. That’s a first. You’re getting better.” 

John swallowed nothing, leaning on his dad. “That’s good. I’m getting a bit bored just hanging out in the shed all the time.” There was nothing to do in here except for jerk off and wait for his dad to come fuck him again. There was a work table, but John couldn’t really do any work. He had no materials, and it was hard to concentrate, and if he touched his own soul it would kill him as surely as touching his dick would make him cum. So he was bored. 

“If I had my way you’d be in the house with me,” dad said, holding him close for a second. 

“I know.” John would like that. He thought about it a bit. “Is…is mom really mad?”

“A little. Not as much now as she was.” 

“Right.” John looked at the floor between his legs. “At me or at you?”

“At me,” Dad said quickly. “It’s not your fault you got dosed with a libido-enhancing sap. I’m the one who couldn’t keep my cock in my pants and just make you the antidote.”

That sounded like something mom would have said. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was kind of my fault. And I didn’t mean to cause trouble with you and mom.”

Dad shook his head, patting John’s back. “Don’t worry about it, baby boy. Your mom and I tried to kill one of our sons, remember? Me fucking the other one is hardly the worst thing that’s ever happened in this family.” 

John had to laugh at that. “I guess when you put it like that.” 

Dad kissed his cheek. “Daddy’s got you, so don’t worry about it, okay? You’re sick, you worry about feeling better.” Dad sighed. “I should go back, though.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at supper.”

“Count on it, baby boy. Use your toy if you need to, okay?”

John nodded, glancing at the wood toy dad had given him on the first day. It had definitely been inside his dad before, but he’d still hesitated in using it because it might have also been inside his mom. But he’d only hesitated for the first half-hour. “I will.” 

“Good.” Dad dressed quickly, and went for the door, empty dishes in hand. John got up and stopped him, hand on his wrist. “What is it?”

John leaned in to kiss his dad, before letting him go and stepping back. “I love you, dad.”

“Love you too, baby boy.”

Dad left, and John sighed, wishing he didn’t have to. And now he was hard again. 

He went over and got the toy, oiling it up and spreading his legs again. It wasn’t as good as his daddy, but it would do the job until John wasn’t alone again.


	3. All Good Things Must Come to an End, but the Effects Can Linger

John was bored, laying on the makeshift bed in the shed, playing with himself but not for real. He was hard, but it wasn’t killing him; if he came now, he might be soft later, and he didn’t want to disappoint Dad when he came to see him. 

He was toying with the lowest of his dick piercings, looking down at his dick as he did it. Maybe after this was over he’d get himself a couple more. He liked the idea of them going all the way down until they met up with the one in his balls, but he was also too much of a wimp to do more than a couple of piercings at a time. It had taken weeks of convincing for him to get the first one. John liked the way they looked and felt when they were healed, but he never liked getting them in. 

Maybe…John swallowed, his dick twitching in his hand as the thought occurred to him. Maybe he could ask Dad to put the next few in for him. The idea of laying there on his back, legs spread wide, Dad in between them with a needle and…yes, John liked that idea a lot. His idle stroking got a little stronger, some pre beading at the tip of his cock.

The shed door opened and John looked up, guilty as if Dad hadn’t seen it all already. He came in with John’s lunch, smiling. “Hard at work.”

John nodded, getting up, but not standing. He got onto his knees, waiting for Dad to come over. And he did, putting John’s tray down on the work bench and undoing his pants. This had become their ritual; every encounter both began and ended with John sucking his daddy’s cock. 

Dad didn’t say a word as John sucked him down. He was mostly hard already, but got the rest of the way there in John’s mouth, as John bobbed back and forth on him, running his tongue along the bottom, sucking on the head. John kept his hands on his knees while he worked, using just his mouth on daddy’s cock. Dad didn’t move. He stood totally still, letting John do all the work, letting him decide how much he wanted and how fast he wanted it. 

His hands were on John’s head, petting his hair, playing with his ears. He tugged gently at John’s piercings, not enough to hurt. He cupped John’s cheeks, stroking under John’s eyes with his thumbs. He rubbed John’s shoulders, telling him silently that he was doing well. John’s cock was leaking and he hadn’t even touched it since the shed door had opened. 

“Mm,” Dad said, hot in John’s mouth. “That’s really nice, son…”

That was John’s cue that Dad was almost done. He didn’t suck harder, but John did start working his tongue more, up and down and back and forth and when Dad hissed in an intake of breath, hands sliding back up to John’s face, John pulled back, keeping just the head in his mouth so that he could taste every drop of his daddy’s cum. And that was what he got, four strong spurts that filled his mouth and tasted just enough like his own to make John smile as he swallowed them down. 

He pulled back and looked up at his daddy, not even embarrassed to admit what he wanted. And of course he got it. Dad smiled at him, tapped his nose. “You did so well, baby boy.” 

A rush of pride surged up from John’s belly. “Thank you, daddy.” 

“Should we take care of you now?”

“Please?”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, daddy?”

Dad got down on his knees and kissed John gently. “Of course, baby. Let’s sit you in my lap.”

John nodded, and they sat down, and daddy pulled John into his lap, facing away from him. Daddy always decided what position they did this in, and he always picked one different from what they’d done last. John was too big to really be sat like this but he did it anyway, daddy’s head on his shoulder, arms around him. 

He bounced John up and down, taking over doing all the work this time. Neither of them touched John’s dick. Daddy held him tight, playing with the ring in John’s nipple, kissing John’s neck, whispering nothing at him as he bounced John up and down, his cock filling John up, hitting him just right, making him gasp. John kept his eyes closed shut, not interested in seeing the shed or anything else. He just wanted to feel this, feel what this was until it was over, because it would be over sooner than he wanted.

And it _was_ over sooner than he wanted, his muscles tensing, his dick hardening even more as John came with a whimper, making a mess on his belly. Daddy slowed down, but kept bouncing him, whispering in John’s ear. “How are you feeling, baby boy?”

John nodded, then remembered that wasn’t words. “G-good,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m good, daddy.” 

“Good. One more?”

“Yes,” John pleaded. He wanted it ten more times. 

Daddy reached around, gently taking John’s dick in hand, more gentle around the piercings than he needed to be. He stroked John slowly as he bounced him, whispering in his ear. “You’re doing good, baby boy. You’re doing so good.” 

John was in heaven and he had no intention of giving that up, the feeling of his daddy inside him, his arms around him, his breath on his neck, his everything, he was so close and it was so nice and it went on forever and ever and ever. Until it didn’t. Until John came again, far less this time, a soft cry escaping his lips as he did. 

Daddy let him go, wiping his hand on the blanket. “There you go, baby boy,” he said. John was getting soft. “All done.”

John nodded. “Thank you, daddy.” 

Dad was still hard inside John’s ass, and hadn’t cum yet. But he floated the tray over and started feeding John, and honestly, being fed by hand was John’s new favourite thing. As he fed John, his other hand drifted down to John’s dick, playing with his piercings. “I hated these when I first saw them,” he said. “They’re growing on me now, though.” 

John smiled, swallowing what was in his mouth. “Thank you. I, uh. I got them because I thought they looked cool.”

“Hm. And this?” Dad asked, tugging on John’s cockhead. Or probably more accurately, on what wasn’t there. “You thought this looked cool too?”

John shook his head. “Everyone where I was was circumcised. They thought there was something wrong with me because I wasn’t.”

“And they were seeing your foreskin often enough that it was easier just to get it cut off?”

“Yes.” 

Dad chuckled, kissed John’s cheek. “My slutty baby boy.” 

It hadn’t quite been like that, but John squirmed happily anyway. 

He finished lunch, and only then did Dad pull John up and off his cock, moving back to wipe it on the blanket. He was still hard, and he looked at John, sighing. “John.”

“Yes, daddy?”

“You got soft after two orgasms.”

John nodded, and then stopped nodding when he realized what that meant.

“You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

“I…” Shit. John felt something curl in his chest. “Yeah. I g-guess so.”

“For how long?”

He sounded angry. “Since…yesterday.” 

Dad nodded, patted John’s cheek. “And instead of telling me, you thought you’d just take advantage of me, let me keep fucking you for a few more days?”

John hadn’t quite thought of it like that, and he didn’t like the way Dad said it. “So? What’s wrong with wanting to enjoy myself a bit?”

“With your father?”

John could feel the weight of his disappointment. Shit. It made him angry, not scared like he usually was when he’d disappointed one of his parents. “And what, you weren’t taking advantage of me? Since when is sucking your cock part of the treatment for Goldwage ingestion?”

Dad was silent at that for a second, and John was worried he’d ruined it. He’d had the best few days of his life, and he’d just gone and ruined them, and…

Dad chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time you stood up to me, son. You really are a big boy now, aren’t you? You’re not wrong. I was having fun too. But John, once you’re better, we have to go back to normal. We can’t keep doing this. Your mother…”

“I know,” John said, miserable now, even in the face of that praise.. He knew that. He knew this was short-lived. That was why he’d wanted to have a few extra days. Because they were just going to be father and son once he walked out of the shed, no longer daddy and baby boy.

Dad nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry, John.” 

“Me too.” 

Dad leaned in and kissed John, and John kissed him back, and it was quiet and soft. And then Dad stood up, pulled John’s medicine out of his pocket. And he poured it right onto his still-hard cock. “What…dad…”

Dad smiled. “Aren’t you going to take your medicine, baby boy?”

John dove forward without a second thought, taking his daddy’s cock into his mouth in one go, sucking it fierce, hard. Fast. He should have gone slow, should have savoured it, but he went fast. And it was over fast, too fast. John pulled all the way off this time, letting his daddy paint his face. And he looked up at his daddy, hopeful. Not sure what he wanted to hear. 

Dad smiled at him. “You look so handsome like that, baby.”

John beamed, the joy he felt hearing that immeasurable. “Thank you, daddy.” He could feel himself starting to cry. 

Dad patted John’s hair, did up his pants. “You sit tight a while longer. I think you need one more checkup at supper before I bring you back in, okay?”

“O…okay, daddy! I’ll be good while you’re gone, promise!”

“I know you will. You’re my perfect baby boy,” Daddy said, giving John one more pat. And then he left, and left John there by himself. 

And John cried some more, but only a little bit. This was almost over, but he was so happy. Because he knew that his daddy loved him.


	4. Try As You Might, There Are Some Events You Just Can't Return to Normal after

Salt stung John’s eyes as the wind and waves kicked everything, including him, around. It was a bad day, windy with a lot of waves, making being in the water miserable. He stood as still as he could in the water, spear in his hand, watching the fish move back and forth, letting them get used to his being there.

When it felt right, John stabbed down with the spear, smiling to himself as he managed to get two fish at once. He held them up and took in a deep breath. The life force of the fish bled down through his spear, into his hand. And out his other hand, flat on the surface of the water. Four more fish floated to the surface as John exhaled, grabbing them by the tails. It was easier when they didn’t move. His dad had taught him that. 

He turned back to the shore, his smile fading when he saw his sister. He’d forgotten for a second that she was there instead of his dad. 

John trudged out of the water, spear over his shoulder, four fish held awkwardly by their tails in one hand. Now that he didn’t have anyone to impress, it just felt like too much to hold. “Here,” he said, dumping the four in the basket Kay had with her. 

“Why do I have to carry them back?” Kay asked, making a face at the fish. 

John shrugged, setting the spear down on the basket so the fish didn’t get sand all over them. “All you did was sit here and watch me catch them. You can help somehow.” 

Kay snorted, making a face when John turned away. “Where are you going?”

John looked at her over his shoulder. “I’m going to wring all this water out of my pants. Figured you didn’t want to watch me get naked.” 

“Yeah, I’ve already seen more than enough of you today, thanks.” 

John gave her the finger and went off a short way, just far enough that if his sister saw anything it was because she was looking for it, and he peeled his wet pants off. If it had just been him and his dad, he’d have taken them off back there to wring them out—even before the last little while he’d have done that, because it was no big deal. Now he’d have done it because it would have been a big deal. 

But Dad wasn’t here, he was home waiting for John and Kay to come back with two fish for supper and a few more to salt and dry. So John just sighed, wringing the water out of his pants and then putting them back on. They weren’t clinging to him anymore, but there was no way to get comfortable while wearing them. Lately John felt like there was no way to get comfortable at all. 

He rejoined Kay, picking up the spear and putting it over his shoulder. She lifted the basket, and they headed up the path towards the house. “I’ve always thought your tattoos looked stupid,” Kay told him out of nowhere once they were off the sand. “Especially the one on your butt. I’d never seen it properly before now.” 

John was pulled out of his search of the trees for cool birds by that. He glared at his sister. “Shut up. I didn’t get them to impress you.” 

“Who did you get them to impress?” Kay asked, giving John a lot of side-eye. 

“Nobody.” The first one, the spiderweb on his shoulder, had been to impress a boy he’d liked in Pungja. “I got them because I like them.” He liked what they reminded him of. 

Kay seemed doubtful. “Well, I think they look stupid.” 

“Well, even if I did want to impress people with them, you wouldn’t be on the list, so that doesn’t hurt my feelings much.” It did, a little bit. John liked his tattoos, they meant a lot to him. He hadn’t gotten one since coming back to be with his family.

“Would Dad be on the list?” Kay asked, giving John an expectant look.

John glared at her. He’d managed not to think about Dad for a few whole minutes there. They’d barely talked since John had left the shed. “Shut up.”

“That’s not a no.” 

“Obviously I’m not interested in our dad, God.” It hurt to say that. It hurt to lie. John just wanted his dad to smile at him. 

“Yeah, that’s convincing,” Kay said, rolling her eyes. 

“I was sick. It was dangerous. He was helping me out. That’s all.” That had been in no way all. That time was special to John. “If I had to pick someone on this island to help me with that, it wasn’t going to be mom and it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be you.” 

Kay snorted. “Obviously. You know what I think?”

“I don’t care what you think.”

“I think you doused yourself with the Goldwage on purpose.” 

“What…I didn’t!” As if John would have put himself in danger like that. 

“Mom thinks you did too.” 

“It was an accident!” 

“Sure it was.” Kay shrugged, skipping a little as she walked. “That plant’s been in the same place in the garden for five years and you’ve always known what it did, you just accidentally walked into it one day. Okay.” 

“Shut up,” John said, voice cracking a little. He tasted blood on the front of his tongue, and it was hard not to hit his sister over the head with the spear, and…

The blood taste faded as John got control of himself. She was baiting him on purpose, but he wasn’t a little boy. John wasn’t playing that game. Kay just smiled to herself and they didn’t talk for the rest of the walk home. 

Their house on the island had a big front kitchen with a workroom behind it, and a staircase between the two leading up to their three bedrooms. Dad was sitting at the table, writing something, and Mom was standing beside him. “We’re back,” Kay said. She put the basket of fish down on the table and tried to sneak off before anyone could make her do any more chores.

“Go out and water the garden,” Mom ordered, before she could do that. Kay sighed dramatically, and went outside. Mom turned to John, who was just standing there like an idiot. “What are we supposed to do, eat the bones, John? Go gut the fish.” 

“I…Dad usually helps me with that,” he said. It was true. John’s heart was hammering. 

Dad looked up from his work, just briefly. “I’m busy, John. You can do it yourself.” 

“Oh. Okay.” John picked up the basket, walked away with a quiet sigh. He just wanted to spend five minutes with his dad. Even if there were fish guts everywhere. He just wanted his dad to look at him for real again. “I speared two fish at once,” he said, knowing it was transparent as he said it. It was so obviously just a little kid’s cry for attention that it made him curl up a little on the inside. 

Dad looked up again, gave a small smile. “Good for you, son.”

John smiled back, but it was short-lived. Mom was glaring at him. “Go. We don’t want to wait hours for supper.” 

Dad had promised she wasn’t mad at John, but she definitely was. And John didn’t want to be any more on his mom’s bad side than he’d already gotten between splitting his soul without her permission and then fucking her husband, so he just headed for the door, nodding. “I…I won’t be very long.” 

Neither of them said anything. John took a breath and stepped outside, feeling some tears gathering in his eyes. This was something he usually did with his dad. 

He didn’t even want to fuck, Goddamnit, he just wanted to spend time together, to talk like normal people again. Dad had promised that everything would go back to normal and that everything would be the way it had been before, but that had been a lie. Nothing was the way it had been before, it was all worse. 

John was miserable and he wanted his daddy back.


	5. Honesty Is One Way to Define What Your Relationships With Your Family Really Are

John lay in bed, panting, staring at the ceiling with tears in his eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. 

It would, he knew it would in a few minutes. But he always forgot how much it hurt. It hurt so much, so much that he was worried he’d done it wrong, that he’d broken his dick, that it was always going to hurt like this forever now. 

“Fuck,” John whispered, looking down, then cringing. It wasn’t that bad, objectively. There was hardly any blood at all. But there was a little bit of blood, and it was his blood, and it was on his dick. “Fuck.” 

This was normal, he reminded himself. It was fine. Hand shaking, he made himself reach over and take the rag from the bowl of hot water by his bed. John dabbed the blood clean, wiping the area until it looked normal. Well, swollen and angry, but not bleeding. The three new piercings looked shiny even if they weren’t, and even like this John had to smile. He liked them a lot. Once they’d healed they’d look really good, especially when he was hard. 

He still needed a few more to complete his set, and though he’d been planning to do that today, John couldn’t handle any more pain. He’d wait until these ones healed and then do the rest. Or some of the rest. He thought he probably needed four more to reach the one at the top of his balls. Maybe he’d do two at a time. 

Piercing himself meant not using his dick to do anything fun for a while, but it wasn’t like John had any reason to use it anyway. He reached for the jar of ointment he had beside the bowl of water, but knocked it down by accident. And when he reached down to get it, John winced as another lance of pain shot up his body. “Ah, fuck,” he hissed. It would pass in a minute, he knew it would. But it hurt so _much_.

John almost didn’t hear the knock at his door. Almost. “Go away,” he said, voice strained. “I’m jerking off.” That should make Kayla fuck off.

“John?” Dad’s voice asked, and John froze in place. “I heard you shouting. Are you okay?”

“I’m…” John didn’t know what to say, his heart pounding. “I’m fine.” 

The door opened, and Dad came in, pausing in the doorway. “John, what happened? Are you okay?”

Frozen, John just looked at him. 

“John?”

“I…I’m fine!” John said, sitting up, wincing, and trying to cover himself with the blanket. 

“John, you’re bleeding.” 

“It’s not a big deal.” 

“John.” Dad came over, pulled the blanket back. “Oh.”

“Dad,” John said, trying to keep his breath from running away. And trying not to whinge like a little kid. “It’s not a big deal, I’ve done it before.” 

Dad sat down on the bed, reaching out as if to touch John, but he didn’t. He bent down and picked up the jar of ointment. “I’ve never seen this before,” he said. 

“I made it.” John wished Dad would just give it to him and leave. Or stay here forever. “It speeds up the healing process.” 

“That’s very clever, son,” Dad said. He looked like he might open it, but just handed John the jar. “They look very good on you. “

“Th-thank you,” John said. What was this? What was Dad doing? “I wanted to do more, but it hurt a lot.” 

Dad smiled, and he reached over and brushed a tear from John’s eye. John hadn’t even noticed it was there. “You’re so brave. Are you going to have them all the way down when you’re done?”

John nodded. “Yeah. And then I want to have them all the way down my balls too.” 

“I’d love to see that when it’s done,” Dad said, once again reaching out as if to touch, then stopping himself. John wished he would decide if he was going to touch or not. .

“The body’s never done,” John told him. “It’s something you work on all your life. That’s what they used to say in Pungja.” 

“I like that.” Dad looked down, hand an inch from John’s. “You really liked it down there, didn’t you?”

John nodded. “I did. I think about going back there sometimes.” 

“You should. If it would make you happy.” 

“Mom wouldn’t let me,” John said quietly. She’d been okay with him being down there as long as he was learning practical things, but she wanted them all up here where they could be useful to the family. To her. 

“I didn’t say you should ask her.” Dad sighed. “I think it’s really brave of you to want all those piercings even knowing it’s going to hurt you, John. I’m proud of you.” 

John flushed, looked down at the jar of ointment in his hands. Humiliatingly, he was getting a boner. He wasn’t even horny, it was just...it was just hearing that from Dad. From anyone. “It’s nothing special. I just like how they look. They feel like…Like they belong there.” 

“I think that’s special. Doing hard things because it feels right is more special than you think.” Dad got up, brushing John’s chin. “I should go. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

John nodded. “Thank you for worrying about me. I miss you.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Shit. Fuck. 

Dad was quiet for a second, but he nodded. “I miss you too, baby boy.” 

John felt himself choke on that, something like a sob stuck in his throat. “Then…”

“No…”

“I don’t even want to have sex, Dad,” John lied. He did want to have sex. “I just…we never talk anymore. We never do anything together. I feel like you stopped being my dad.” 

Dad flinched at that, raised a hand as if to touch John again, then dropped it. He looked more confused than John could ever remember seeing him. “I know. This is just how it’ll have to be for a while, until…” he shrugged. 

“You said everything would go back to normal,” John said quietly. 

“You were sick. You weren’t ready to hear anything else.” Dad looked away. “You’re an adult, John. You need to learn that sometimes you can’t have the things that you want. I think you should go back to Pungja.” 

“You want me to leave,” John realized, like a punch to the head. “You want me to leave.” 

“I want you to be happy, baby boy.” 

And that was all Dad said. He left the room, pulling the door shut behind. Or partway shut. “What are you doing?” That was Mom’s voice. 

John pulled the blanket over himself as Dad spoke. “I was talking to my son, Jocelyn. That a crime?”

“Don’t you push me, Kyle. You’re lucky you’re still…don’t walk away from me. Kyle!” John jumped as Mom shouted. But Dad didn’t answer. 

The door banged open again and Mom came in, glaring at John, then glaring even harder when she saw he was shirtless. “It’s the middle of the day, what the fuck are you doing?”

John didn’t answer. 

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Mom said, when it was clear John wasn’t going to say anything. “But you stay away from him.” 

“He came in here,” John muttered, barely audible. 

“For fuck’s sake, you’re not a child. Talk to me, not your blanket.” 

John turned his glare on her, his heart burning. “I said he came in here. I didn’t do anything.” 

“Yes, it’s never your fault, is it?” Mom asked. “Wasn’t your fault in the garden, it wasn’t your fault that you lost most of your soul, wasn’t your fault you couldn’t talk your brother into coming with you. Must be nice not having to take responsibility for anything.” 

John clenched his fists in the blankets. “I’m leaving,” he said to her.

“What?”

“I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m going back to Pungja. Then you won’t have to worry every time Dad’s out of sight.” 

Jocelyn snorted. “No.”

“You can’t stop me.” 

“Pitiful though you are, your skills are an asset to this family. If you don’t plan to keep being one, then I see no reason I shouldn’t go up to your little lab experiments next time I’m in the Sorcerer King’s castle and strangle them to death.” 

_And you with them._ She didn’t need to say it. They both knew what that meant. 

He looked up at her, and John felt like he really saw his mother for the first time. She looked just like she had the night when they’d fled the forest. Her whole body was sneering at him, like he was a little boy who’d been bad. “I hate you,” he whispered. 

John didn’t think he’d ever hated someone before. Not even the Sea King, really. But he was pretty sure he hated his mother. 

“Good for you,” Mom said. She turned around, walked out of the room. She left his door open. “Get dressed and come do something useful.” 

John didn’t. He stayed in bed for the rest of the day. He put his ointment on, but he didn’t hurt anymore. 

He didn’t feel anything at all.


	6. Desperate People Are Likely to Take Extreme Measures to See Their Problems Addressed

John sat crosslegged in the dirt, so absorbed in what was in front of him that he didn’t hear Kay coming up behind him. “What are you doing?”

“Working,” John told her. 

“On what?” She peered over his shoulder at the potion he was blending. “And why aren’t you doing it in the kitchen?”

“I just finished cleaning it and I don’t want it to be a mess when Mom gets home,” John muttered. She was away at the Sorcerer King’s castle. She said she’d be there for a long time. “Do you need something?”

“Catwing powder,” Kay said. “I can’t find it. Did you use it?”

“No,” John said. He never used Catwing powder. “What do you need it for?”

“What are you making there?”

John sighed. He was almost done. “A mood enhancer.” 

“Trying to make yourself less sad?” Kay teased. “You think it’ll work?”

“What do you want the Catwing powder for? Trying to pretend we aren’t stuck here?” It was a hallucinogen. 

“Working on a new astral projection spell,” Kay said. 

“It’s not astral projection if you’re just high and think you’re not in your body,” John told her. There. That should do it. “I think Dad took it.” He’d gone out somewhere to do some ritual just before Mom had left. 

Kay sighed. “Great. Now I’ll never get it back.” 

“I can go get it from him.” 

“So you can spend some quality alone time with him?” Kay asked, smirking. 

John rolled his eyes. “Fine, you go. You’re the one who wants it.” He stood up and started collecting his materials. 

“What, and subject myself to an hour-long lecture about communing with the island? I don’t think so. You go.” 

“Fine,” John said, as if that hadn’t been his plan. He pocketed the vial of potion he’d made, and headed towards the trees. “Put my stuff away.” He’d used all his ingredients, so it was just his equipment. She wouldn’t be able to figure out what he’d made just from that. 

“Asshole.” 

“It’s what you get for being lazy,” John called over his shoulder, and he went into the jungle. 

Dad would be at the island’s high point, where the altar stone was. He was cut off from his clan just like the rest of them were cut off from theirs, but he still kept up all the rituals that he was supposed to for the island to remain in balance. John had always admired that about him. He took the path that wound upwards through the jungle, walking quickly out of nerves. If this didn’t work…he didn’t know what he’d do. John was out of ideas. Out of options.   
A couple of parrots broke out of the trees and flew overhead, shouting, and John stopped to watch them. They were really cool, for birds. He wished he could be like that, loud and confident and pretty and…

In their wake, he hadn’t even noticed the large dragonfly that had landed on him. “Hey, you,” John said, lifting it up slowly. Its body was the size of his hand, red down its thorax and blue at its tail. He’d never seen that colouring before. The wings were an explosion of colour that John couldn’t look away from. “You can’t eat me,” he told it. “I’m too big.” 

The dragonfly kept very still, probably scared to death because John was talking to it and moving around. Another parrot flew overhead. “You’re hiding from them, aren’t you?” he asked. “That’s brave of you. You don’t know that I’m not going to kill you too. But…I guess it’s better to risk dying and avoid dying for sure, right?” John smiled at it. “Making the best of shitty options. You’re a smart little guy, aren’t you?”

“Making friends?”

John looked up, startled. His sudden movement made the dragonfly leap off his hand, buzz away into the trees. Dad was coming down the path, watching John. “Hi,” John said, swallowing. “I was just…Kay needs the...” He felt like a coward. Two minutes ago he’d just told himself this was his only hope, hadn’t he? “I wanted to see you.” 

“John, you can’t…”

“No,” John interrupted, shaking his head. “I want you to listen to me.” 

Dad stood there quietly for a second, then nodded once. “I’m listening.” 

Okay. John swallowed. “I miss you. I miss being able to talk to you. I miss being able to do things with you. I miss having sex with you. I, I miss you, Dad. And Mom will kill me if I go back to Pungja, and I can’t do any of my work as long as the Sea King has Hammerhead and Alanna and I…” he felt himself starting to cry, and tried so hard not to. “I hate my life and being with you is the only thing that makes me happy.” 

Dad was quiet for a good minute. He took a step towards John, but didn’t say anything. John just stood there, letting Dad take another step. Soon he was right in front of John, and he reached up and touched the tears on John’s cheek. “Don’t cry, baby boy,” he said softly. “You make me happy too.” 

“Then why can’t we be happy together?” John asked him. He felt pitiful. He didn’t care. “We can keep it a secret from Mom. I know you want to.” 

“We can’t, John,” Dad said, taking his hand away. “We just can’t.” 

“Why? We did before and you didn’t care. You liked it too, I know you did.” If Dad tried to tell John that he hadn’t, that he hadn’t enjoyed what they’d had together in the shed, that it had been yet another lie, then John would break into a thousand pieces and never be able to put himself back together.

“I did,” Dad said softly. “But that was then. You were sick, and you needed me to take care of you. You’re okay now.”

“I’m not okay.” John’s voice cracked as he said it. “I’m not okay, daddy.” 

“You are,” Dad insisted. “You’re just sad. Come on, let’s go back to the house before your sister astral projects herself into a coma.” He stepped around John, making to leave.

“No,” John said, and he reached into his pocket. 

“You can stay out here if you want,” Dad told him. “Just try to be back by supper, okay?” 

John shook his head. He pulled out the vial and took the stopper out. “No,” he said, making sure his dad saw him. 

“John, what’s that?”

John put the vial to his mouth, drank half its contents. It was overly sweet and made his tongue hurt, but he swallowed, lowering the vial and panting like he’d run a long way. 

“John,” Dad said, taking the vial from him and looking at it. “What is this? What did you drink?”

“Goldwage sap,” John said quietly, already feeling the heat creep up his body, already getting hard, his fingers still tingling where his dad’s had touched him. 

“John…why would you…”

“It was the only way…to make you love me again.” 

“Oh, John…” Dad said, catching John as he stumbled forward. His hands were firm on John’s arms, his body heat warm. “Come with me.” 

John nodded, and Dad pulled him up the path, taking him further into the jungle, more and more uphill. John started to whimper, wanting to stop. “Daddy…”

“It’s not much farther, baby boy.”

“It hurts.” 

“I know. You’ll be okay. I’m going to take care of you.” 

“You promise?”

“I promise, baby boy.” 

“Okay.” It still hurt, it was still hard to walk, but John did it for his daddy, wanting to make him proud even as he wanted his daddy to pick him up and carry him. 

Dad took him up to the highest point on the island, the top of a hill that looked down on the rest of the island, and out to the ocean called Ikk. There was a clearing in the jungle here, and a flat stone set into the ground, the island’s altar stone. “Here,” Dad said, bringing John over to the altar stone and getting him to lift his arms. 

“Why here?” John asked. He couldn’t think clearly. There was a reason why this place was important, but he couldn’t’ remember what it was. His balls really hurt, and his head was all cloudy. 

“Because this is a place to do important things,” Dad told him, getting John out of the rest of his clothes and sitting him down. He took off his own clothes, and John watched him raptly. His dad was so hot. 

“You know what to do, baby boy,” Dad said, holding his cock. 

John nodded, leaned forward, took it into his mouth. It wasn’t hard yet, but he sucked hungrily, taking the whole thing into his mouth, working it with his tongue. He should pierce his tongue, he thought vaguely. Maybe daddy would like the way that felt on his cock when they did this. John smiled to himself as he pictured that, getting his dad hard in his mouth. 

Dad didn’t cum, pulling out once he was fully hard. He knelt down in front of John. “Lay down.” 

John nodded, lay back, spreading his legs. Dad pressed a finger against his hole, sliding it in easily. “You were planning this, right? Did you prepare yourself?”

John nodded. It had been an hour or so ago, but he was fine. He spread his legs. “Just put it in, daddy, please?”

“You’re a big boy, John,” Dad said, getting himself ready. “Say it properly.” 

“Okay.” Say what properly? Say…right. “Daddy, fuck me, please?”

“Of course, baby boy.” Dad pressed the head of his cock against John’s hole, then pressed it in, and John whinged, let out a whimper that became an outright moan. It stung, it did, but John was feeling full and good and he wanted more and more and more of it and when his daddy was all the way inside him John came with a cry, making a mess all over his chest.

“Okay,” Dad said, touching John’s cheek. “Okay.” He waited until John was calmer, then he kissed him. “We’re going to start moving now, baby boy.”

“Okay, daddy,” John whispered. He put his arms around his daddy’s neck, looking up at him. 

Daddy nodded, and he started to move, pulling back almost all the way then thrusting back in, kissing John as he did. He pulled back out, and thrust again. Every time he pushed in, he kissed a different part of John, showering him in love. He never pulled all the way out, never let his baby boy be empty, and John clung to him, desperate for more, so grateful to have this back and never wanting it to end. He didn’t want to lose this ever again, no matter what. 

John came again as his daddy hit his prostate, whimpering as he pulled his daddy closer. “Daddy…”

“It’s okay, baby boy, I’ve got you,” Daddy said, and he kept going, harder now. He picked up speed, slamming in and out of John, grunting, still kissing John, but haphazardly now, all over his face, and John just lay there, his back scraping on the stone, the pain fading with every thrust, letting his daddy take care of him. 

And when he came again it was all over, his whole body tensing and seizing and shaking as he came with every fibre of his being and…and daddy gave one last grunt and he came inside John too, filling him up as he held John tight, almost overwhelming him but in such a good way, loving him all over. 

Daddy pulled out then, laying beside John, hand on his chest. “Feeling better, baby boy?”

John nodded, snuggling up to his daddy. “Yes, daddy. Thank you.” He was crying again. He was so happy. 

“We have to get you back to the house so we can get you the medicine,” daddy said quietly. 

John shook his head. “I’ll be okay.” 

“You drank enough Goldwage sap to make a centaur horny for a year, John.” 

John smiled. “No I didn’t. I diluted it, mixed it with milkvane and Gavel’s Tryst, and I only drank half the vial. I should be okay in an hour.” 

Dad looked at him, and John felt himself blush, guilt eating at him. “You clever, naughty little boy,” Dad said, finally. John couldn’t help but smile wider, because he sounded proud. “I’d say you tricked me, but you were also just taking care in case I said no, weren’t you?” 

John nodded. He’d known that was a possibility. A big one. 

“What would you have done if I had?”

“I’d have…left,” John admitted. “Gone to Pungja.” And everything that entailed. But John didn’t want to think about that. He wouldn’t have to leave the island now, that was all that mattered.

“Right.” Dad knew what he meant by that, the tone of his voice made that clear. “Okay. I’m sorry, baby boy. I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you to be apart from me.”

“I just…” John snuggled a little closer, just glad they were past that, that things were alright again. “You’re the only one who loves me.” 

“That’s not true, John,” Dad said. He sighed. “But you were right. I did like this, and I do want it.”

“So we can do it again? We can be together?”

“Yes, but you have to promise to stop drugging yourself. And we have to keep it from your mother.” 

“Yeah,” John agreed. “Okay. I can act…like we’ve been acting when she’s around. As long as we can be normal when she’s not.” 

“We can.” Dad kissed John’s cheek. “We’ll do stuff together. Normal stuff, not just sex. I’ll convince your mom that I need your help with some of the island’s rituals since she never wants to help.” 

“I’d like that.” John was going to cry again. “I’d like that so much. I just wanted you to be my dad again.” 

“Me too,” Dad said, sitting up. “Though you don’t just want me to be your dad. You also want me to fuck your brains out sometimes.”

John nodded. “Please? Even if you don’t I’ll be happy, but…please?”

Dad gave him a look for a minute that had John’s heart racing like crazy, and instead of answering, he leaned over John, picking up his pants. He pulled the vial out of his pocket. He uncorked it, looking at it thoughtfully. “You said an hour?”

John nodded. “Give or take twenty minutes.” 

Dad smiled, and he downed the vial in a flash, drinking the rest of the potion. Then he climbed back on top of John, his cock already leaking. John was still rock hard too. “Then let’s use that time for some father-son bonding, okay?”


	7. Knowing That Happiness Is Fleeting Makes it Easier to Appreciate the Short Moments of it You Get

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” John said, sitting on the altar stone with his eyes closed. He could feel the power of the island thrumming through him. 

“Okay, start the spell.”

“Right.” John paused. “Wait, me?”

“Yes,” said Dad. “I’ll do the background work this time. I’ve seen what you can do, you’re ready to do the heavy lifting.” 

“Well…okay.” It wasn’t like John didn’t know how to do this spell—it was a simple barrier spell around the island to prevent it from being found with magic that they’d been re-casting every new moon since they’d come to live here. But usually Dad did it and John helped, not the other way around. 

He sat there with the island for a second, feeling its power, And John dipped part of himself in it, gently swirled it around them, all around itself, forming it into a barrier. Dad’s hand was on the power as well, shaping it, doing what John normally did but more smoothly, spinning the magic into a vortex, a force with high and strong walls that would shield them.

As he did that, John, at the centre of it, felt something else pressing on the barrier, pushing it in. “You have to anchor it,” Dad said. 

“Oh,” said John. Dad had always talked about anchoring the spell before, but John had never quite realized that there was a whole other power there. It was…it was the ocean. He knew that. The ocean had a power all its own, a big one. That made sense. He’d foolishly thought Dad was anchoring the spell to the boundaries of the island or something, but the shore was a temporary thing that was reshaped with every wave. Of course if the barrier was connected to something as deep and old as the ocean, that made it all the more powerful.

So John took a breath, reached out to the ocean’s power, and gently, as gently as he could, attached the barrier to it. He was a bit surprised when it worked, the swirling stopping, solidifying, the barrier around the island snapping right back into place. 

The power rushed out of him, and Dad was there, making sure he didn’t fall over. “Good work,” Dad said, smiling proudly. “That was really good, John.”

John shook his head, leaning into his dad a little. “It was the same thing that you do every month.” 

“Yeah, but you did it perfectly on your first try. Most people feel how strong the ocean’s power is and try to use brute force on it, but the ocean never responds to that. You have to be gentle, and you were.”

John felt himself blush. “I was just…doing what felt right. Near Pungja there’s a big dormant volcano. I used its power a few times in my experiments, and you have to be really, really careful with it because…well. It’s a big volcano.” 

“Right,” Dad said. “That makes sense. There’s a volcano on Revi, the big island north of here. There are all sorts of wards keeping it contained, though. Someday we should go to Pungja together. I’d like to see your volcano.” 

John grinned. “I’d like that too! I’d love to introduce you to my friends there. And if you go up the mountains a little there are all these lakes that are really beautiful, and they have the coolest birds. They’re huge and colourful and they’ll come right up to you if you’re quiet enough.” 

“That sounds amazing,” Dad said. “We’ll definitely go there sometime.” 

“Yeah,” John said. He didn’t think they would. “We definitely will.” 

“We should get back to the house,” Dad said. “It’s lunchtime.” 

“Yeah,” John said. He let Dad pull him to his feet, and they gathered up the ritual paints together. “I guess we should go to the beach first, right?” 

“Yeah, I’ll wash you off,” Dad agreed, looking at John. “How would you feel about a new tattoo?”

John blinked, looked down at himself. He definitely had room for more. “Like…the ones you have?” Dad had a few, on his chest and upper arms. They were more abstract than John’s, to help focus his witchcraft. 

“Yes. It’ll make our rituals easier for you, and we’d be able to paint you less every time.”

John had liked his dad painting the red and blue paints all up and down his arms, sides, and back, but he would also like his dad giving him a tattoo. He nodded. “Yeah. I’d really like that.” 

“I thought you would.” Dad patted John’s butt. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

They started down the path, side-by-side. John looked down at his dad’s hand, so close to his. Swallowing, he reached out and took it. Dad smiled, squeezed his hand and they walked like that. It was nice. It felt normal. Their power mixed as they went, swirling between them. 

“I love you,” John said, because that was what he was feeling and he wanted his dad to know that. “I’m really happy that we can…do this.” 

“Me too.” Dad kissed him on the cheek. “I love you too, son.” 

“Mom’s not home yet, right?” 

“No, not yet.” 

John nodded. “She’s been at the Sorcerer King’s castle a lot lately. Do you know what she’s doing?”

“She’s plotting something with him. They’re trying to trap James,” Dad said, voice tight.

John’s heart clenched, and he felt his power recoil from Dad’s a little. “Is she going to kill him?” He was thinking about his baby brother—not a baby, not anymore. He was older now than John had been when they’d left the forest. He’d been powerful. He’d already been so powerful as a kid. 

“I think she’s going to try, yes,” Dad said. 

John nodded quietly. “Okay,” he said, and that wasn’t what he was thinking. What he was thinking was that James had always been capable of things John would never have dreamed of doing, that there was a reason why they’d ran away instead of fighting after James had refused to join them, and that maybe James would kill _her_ instead. John wouldn’t mind that. Any thought he’d once had that he’d be upset if he lost his mother was gone. She’d kill him if he annoyed her. If she died, there’d be nobody to threaten him. He could leave. He could go to Pungja. He could do his work again. He could be happy. He could…

John could be happy. 

No, he thought. No, he couldn’t. His mom wasn’t the only thing in the world making him unhappy. There were plenty of those things. But she was one of them. 

“John?” Dad asked, sounding worried. “What’s wrong, baby?”

John was crying. Shit. He wiped his face with his free hand. “Nothing. I just...James is so much better than all of us. And he hates us for what mom… For what happened. What if he kills us?”

“He won’t. He’s not better than us, John.”

“He is.” And they all knew it. 

“He’s more powerful,” Dad corrected. “He’s not better. You’re smarter than him. You’re a more skilled practitioner than him. Think about what we did today, John. Great magic isn’t about having the most raw strength, it’s about using what you have in the best way.” 

John knew Dad was just trying to make him feel better, and he sighed. “You don’t have to lie, Dad. It’s okay.” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve read your notes. Your work is remarkable, way more than anything I or any of the rest of us could do.” 

It wasn’t really, or John would still have his soul. “I just hope…I just hope it goes well, at the castle.” 

“Me too,” Dad said. He pulled John closer, put an arm around him, and kissed his temple. “Come on, let’s get you down to the water. If you’re good during your bath, I’ll give you a sweet after lunch.” 

John smiled. “What kind of sweet?”

“It’s a surprise. And then you’re going to lay down and take a nap.” 

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not tired.” John was always tired. 

“You will be by the time I’m done with you,” Dad promised, and he led John to the beach.

John let his daddy clean, feed and put him to bed, and he felt so happy and taken care of that he forgot to worry about James or his mom or any of it. He was happy right now. That was what mattered.


	8. We Often Need an Outside Eye to See How Talented We Really Are

John sighed, tapping his dry quill against his paper. He’d decided to try working on something, because he was in a good mood and he always thought better when he was in a good mood. But his good mood was fading a little the longer he sat here looking at his notes and circles and getting nowhere with them. He’d been right the first time, there was no way around using his own soul as a catalyst for the artificial ones. 

At least not without replacing it with a different catalyst, John thought, for the hundredth time. But animal souls didn’t cut it, and another person would work just fine, but there was no point in making an artificial soul if he had to kill a real person for every two he made. 

“You okay?” Dad asked. He was sitting nearby, doing his own work. It was quiet in the shed, and John was enjoying the companionship. Dad seemed to be writing a lot, though, which kind of made John feel bad for not really doing anything. 

“Yeah,” John said, not looking up from his work. “Just thinking.” 

“Can I help?” Dad asked, getting up.

“Uh, don’t feel like you have to…” John said, resisting the urge to hide his work, and then feeling bad for looking like he didn’t trust Dad. “You have your own stuff to do…”

Dad smiled, offering John his papers. “Why don’t we trade? I’m a bit stuck and it sounds like you are too. We both know I can’t really help you, but at least I have a fresh pair of eyes.”

“I don’t…imagine I can help you much either, though.” Their work was too different, and Dad was way more advanced than John.

“Just give it a look?”

“Okay,” John said, taking his dad’s notes and letting Dad take his. Dad was working on a way to use telepathy long-distance by talking through souls the way they did with the dead, which sounded hard. 

John looked at his notes, and immediately frowned. Where was the mind-soul link chain? Where was the antenatal matrix? Dad hadn’t even included any comment about mimetic vibration and the growing impact it would have on necrosympathetic pain over greater distances. 

Oh. John got it now. Dad was giving him a test, to see if he actually knew what he was doing, before he was allowed to see Dad’s real work. Okay. He knew his parents were planning something big, something too important for Kayla to know about. But John was…a little sad. He’d thought his dad trusted him more than that, especially since he’d been so insistent about John’s talent before, but okay. He’d just prove that he knew, and then maybe Dad would actually let him help. 

He wetted his quill and started writing, putting notes in the margins and filling in all the obvious gaps Dad had left in his work. As he worked, though, all he could think was that Dad had done a good job messing this up, he’d really made it seem like he didn’t know what he was doing, though he was taking it a bit too far. John wouldn’t have made mistakes like this when he was fourteen, even. There were even mistakes in the liminal structure, which was…

_Your work is remarkable, way more than anything I or any of the rest of us could do._

Wait. John frowned, glancing over his shoulder at Dad. Dad had said John was better at this than him. Had he...been telling the truth? Maybe this wasn’t a test, maybe this was...really the best his dad could do?

Was John really that much better than him?

John turned to face his dad when he was done, holding out dad’s notes. “Dad?” Dad was sitting there, frowning at John’s notes. “Are they...bad?”

Dad looked up at John, surprised. “No, it’s…I don’t think I understand most of this, John. I’m following the basic theory, but the specifics of it are so much more complicated than I realized. No wonder you’ve been stuck.” 

“Sorry,” John muttered, warm in the face. Was he really _that_ much better? “I probably made it harder than it needed to be.” 

“No, that’s not it. I couldn’t have done this. I couldn’t have come up with it and I definitely couldn’t perform it.” 

“Of course you could,” John said, handing Dad back his notes. “I, uh, finished. I have some ideas about how you could stabilize the spell.” 

Dad made a face, took the notes from John. He looked down at them, smiling as he read. John wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. “John…”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. What had he done? He’d only just gotten back to the point where he and Dad could work together, and now he had to go and show off like an idiot? John thought back to all the times he’d tried his best and fallen short. He never did what his parents wanted. Even when he did well, he never did what they wanted. Dad was going to be so mad at him for...

“No.” Dad looked up. He looked proud. “John, you fixed this whole spell for me. I thought...I figured if I showed it to you, you’d be able to help, and that would prove to you how much you knew. I wasn’t expecting this level of adjustment.” 

“I, I’m sorry,” John pleaded, breath shortening. “I’m sorry I went so far. I was only trying to remove some power draining redundancies and add in a safety net for the event of a soul snap, and clean up the involutions in the kairotic substratum. I…I was only trying to help…” John said, sniffing. Like always, he’d just messed everything up.

“John,” Dad said, taking John’s face in his hands and tilting John’s head up, so they were looking each other in the eye. “Don’t cry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I…”

“You’re better at this than I am,” Dad said, and the look in his eyes is what finally stopped John’s spiral in its tracks. He sounded, he looked so…proud. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You’re a genius, John.” 

John didn’t know what to say to that. Why wasn’t he angry? Dad had been doing this his whole life. Why wasn’t he upset that John was better at it than he was? “I...” Everyone in Pungja had always said he was good at what he did, too, but he’d always just thought it was because they didn’t really know what he did. “I…” He’d always known his parents didn’t get his work, but he’d just thought that was because it was stupid. But it wasn’t stupid. John wasn’t stupid.

“I know,” said John. 

“Good. I’ve never seen anyone as talented as you. I’m really proud of you.”

“But aren’t you…”

The shed door burst open, and John jumped as Mom came in. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Dad straightened, letting go of John. “Look at this, Jocelyn.”

“Don’t try to distract me, I can see what’s…”

“Just fucking look.” 

Mom glared at Dad while John tried to hide, but she looked down at John’s work, which Dad had handed her. She lifted the page, eyes moving back and forth as she scanned the notes. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s John’s notes.”

“ _John_ did this?” 

“Yes,” John said, feeling for the first time in his life like his mother wasn’t towering over him. “I did.” 

“He did, and look.” Dad handed her his own notes. “Look what he did to mine.”

“What the fuck?”

“Six months I’ve been working on this,” Dad said. “And he fixed it in fifteen minutes. Jocelyn, his work with the artificial souls wasn’t a fluke. John is the most brilliant practitioner of necromancy I’ve ever seen.” 

Mom looked up, eyes flashing as she looked right at John. “Why the hell didn’t you ever say anything if you could do all this?”

“I didn’t…know it was that big a deal,” John said quietly. “It’s just the stuff I’ve always done. You never seemed that interested. I never...” He took a deep breath, looked his mother in the eye. “I never realized I was this much better than you. You never let me realize it.” And that was true. John thought back to their time in the forest, when everything had seemed better, and how rotten it had all been under the surface. How even as they taught him how to control his power, his parents had made sure he felt guilty for it. But necromancy was natural, and he didn’t need a connection to a stupid forest to do great things. John had been told he was inadequate so many times, but just because he did things differently didn’t mean he was doing them worse.

Mom looked down at John’s work, then sighed. “Clearly I miscalculated with you. You’re a lot more useful than I thought. And now that I know that, don’t think you can get away with playing the fool again.” As John shrank back from that, she tossed the papers back at Dad. “We’re going to the Sorcerer King’s castle in ten days. James is going to be there. We’re going to kill him, and you’re going to be the one to set up the spells we trap him with.”

That struck John, knocking him off-balance, and he felt small again. He was…he was going to kill his brother? 

“Are you sure about that?” Dad asked.

“Sure as I am with anything to do with Sam,” Mom told Dad. “We’re all going because I don’t trust him, so I expect you all not to screw it up.” She stalked out of the shed, paused in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder. “You two are fucking again, aren’t you?”

Dad didn’t say anything, but John, feeling an excess of nothing, nodded. What point was there in lying? She couldn’t stop them. And she wouldn’t. John understood his mother, all at once. He was a useful asset to her. She’d do what she could to keep him here.

And Mom just sighed. “Fine. Just keep it out of my face.” 

And she disappeared, leaving them alone. John leaned against the worktable, caught by his Dad so he didn’t collapse. “Holy shit,” he whispered. He was going to cry, picturing James’s little face, excited at getting his birthday presents, fitful in his sleep, crying as they betrayed him. 

“My brave boy,” Dad said, stroking John’s arm. “My brave, brilliant baby boy.” 

John couldn’t help but smile at that. “Are you really proud of me, daddy?” He wanted...he wanted to feel something good. He’d been feeling so good, and he should still be feeling good. But he wasn’t. He felt worse than he ever had, like he was trapped in a vice. Like he was growing up too fast. He wished he could go back to when his mother’s lies had fooled him, because even if he had always felt like shit, at least he could trick himself into thinking that he wasn’t trapped here, that James dying wasn’t his fault.

The world wasn’t fair. John had known that since he was a kid, but now he really _understood_ that, and he wished he still didn’t. 

“I’m so proud of you I’m not going to be able to get you to your bedroom, baby boy,” Dad said, leaning in for a kiss.

John kissed him back, letting his dad undress him, fuck him right there on the workbench. He wanted it to be big, and happy and wonderful, that was what it should be. He’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted today. He should feel good. 

But John didn’t. He just felt bad, and hollow and guilty and...wrong.


	9. Some Things are Worth Marking on the Body Forever

John kept his head rested on his folded arms, breathing evenly as he felt the needle prick him over and over. His eyes were shut and he kept them that way, trying to keep his back relaxed so Dad could work. 

John didn’t have much room on his arms, so more of his Orange Clan tattoos were going on his back, to match the ones on his chest that were finally done—they’d been working on this for a few days now, spending a few hours a day in John’s room with Dad’s needles and inks. 

Dad wasn’t part of the Orange Clan anymore and John never had been, but they were still connected to the islands, to the ocean and the land here. It was important, and it made John feel like part of something important.

Dad was planning to be done today, and John was excited. He wasn’t allowed to look at the tattoos until they were finished. The ones on his front were already so pretty, a highly stylized sun and moon similar to the ones Dad had, but closer together, almost touching, some stars around them. They anchored John to the islands, marking the day and time when he’d been born so he knew where his place was in the universe. The ones going on his back would connect him to the islands’ power, to the ocean, to his clan. To his dad. 

All John’s tattoos were a little bit magical, but these ones felt especially powerful and special. John wouldn’t wait for them to be done. 

But there was nothing he could do but lay there and wait, trying to stay relaxed. It wasn’t too hard. He could feel the needle, but Dad had given him a potion to drink that had made it not hurt too much. It was something he noticed, and it was a little unpleasant, but John could tolerate it. 

It was a different feeling than his other tattoos; dad’s way of doing it was different from Hui’s. Hui had done all of John’s tattoos in Pungja, and he’d always given John a herb called White to chew that had made John feel like he was floating for a few hours. This was different. John felt here, but tired in a way that made him not bothered by what he was feeling. 

He was naked so that his pants didn’t get in Dad’s way, since Dad was working on the bottom part of the tattoo today. But also because Dad wanted him to be naked, John figured. He’d been naked the other times, even when Dad was working on his shoulders. John wasn’t dumb. Hui had always liked him to be naked for his tattoos too, but Hui had liked him to be naked all the time. Dad would probably like that if Mom and Kayla didn’t live here, John thought. Maybe someday they could go live off on their own and John could be naked all the time and it could be like when John had lived with Hui, who’d always told him that he was the prettiest part of the house, and John had believed him because he’d seen how Hui had looked at him. 

He’d been…John didn’t think he’d ever been with someone who’d been so obviously, genuinely happy to have him around. And his parents had made him come home. Made him leave Hui. Hui had promised John he could come back, if he wanted, but John had known then he wouldn’t, and he still knew that now. He was never going to be allowed to go back. He was…

John was never going to go back to Pungja.

“John?” Dad asked, getting his attention. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ve been talking to you for a few minutes. Are you listening?”

“Oh,” John said, shaking his head a little. “Sorry. I think I fell asleep, or…”

“You’re crying. Does it hurt?”

Oh. John lifted his head, wiped his eyes. He was crying. “No, I’m okay. I was just…uh…”

“Just what?” 

“I was thinking about Hui, I guess,” John muttered, embarrassed. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” said Dad. He was sitting beside John, rubbing his shoulders. “He was your boyfriend, wasn’t he?”

John nodded. “He took such good care of me in Pungja. He offered me a place in his home before he even knew me just because he saw I needed one, he taught me Farthi and Tün, and all he ever asked was for me to be happy.” 

“Were you?”

“I really was,” John whispered. “I loved him. More than I’d loved anyone since Gus.” 

“You never really talk about him,” Dad said. “I’ve heard you talk about Gus, but never him.” 

“I…yeah,” John agreed. “I was mad for a really long time. That you and Mom made me come back. I think I wanted…”

“You wanted to keep him separate from us,” Dad said. “Something in your life that we hadn’t touched. All of your friends down there—you never tell us anything about them, or what you did.”

John nodded. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, baby boy,” Dad said, petting John’s hair. “You’re allowed to have things that just belong to you. Especially the things that make you happy. When we’re done in the Sorcerer King’s castle in a few days, I’ll talk to your Mom and we’ll send you back there if you want. I think given what’s happening now she won’t mind if you go.” 

“But she wants me to be useful to the family,” John said, looking down. “I can’t be from there.” 

“Are you sure?” Dad asked. “It’s pretty clear to me that you learned a lot of magic while there that we don’t know about. They have witches down there, don’t they? And necromancers too.” 

John nodded. They did. “Necromancy isn’t illegal there.” 

“So do you think you could handle being sent down there to do research, and you could come visit us here once every few months to tell us what you’ve learned?” 

John looked up. “You really think that would work?” He hadn’t ever thought of that. If he really was as smart as Dad thought he was, maybe that could be an advantage for him. Something that could make him useful, but also safe, and…

“I don’t see why not. I want you to be happy, John.” 

“I know,” John said, swallowing. “Will you come with me?”

“I think it might be better for you if I didn’t,” Dad said, running his hand down John’s back. He’d healed John as he went, so John wasn’t in pain anymore. 

John didn’t like that, not at all. He sat up. “No. It wouldn’t be. I…”

“You had a boyfriend there, didn’t you?” Dad interrupted. “What would he say if he knew about me?”

“He…” John looked at the bedsheets, taking a breath. “He never minded me being with other people. And relationships…like ours aren’t that weird in Pungja.” Admittedly, John hadn’t known anyone who’d been dating their parent. But lots of people had sex with their dads in Pungja. It was normal there. 

Dad squeezed John’s hand, stood him up. “You want to see your tattoos?”

John nodded, let Dad lead him to the mirror in the corner. He turned John around, his hands warm on John’s arms, gentle as they slid across his chest. As John faced him, his dad had a look in his eyes that was so proud of the work he’d done, so appreciative of how pretty he’d made John. It was similar to how Hui had used to look at John all the time, and it made John feel almost like he was back there with him. John looked over his shoulder. Under the spiderweb and the chalice on his shoulder was a set of cliffs, crashing down his back, waves breaking against them on his left side. On his right was the forest, down near his hips there was the beach, the ocean trailing off to either side. 

In the very centre of John’s back was an empty space. The centre of the island. Looking at it made him feel…connected. To everything—the ocean, the island, the clan, his family. His dad. 

“You like them?” Dad asked. 

John couldn’t do anything but nod, looking at them, at himself. At the island. “I feel like I really belong to something.” 

“You do,” Dad told him, wrapping his arms around John, hugging him. “And you always will, no matter where you go. I’ll always be with you.” 

John nodded, comforted by that. He hugged Dad back. “You promise?”

“Promise. I’d like to give you one more tattoo, if that’s okay.” 

“Okay.” 

“You don’t want to know what it is?”

John smiled. “What is it?”

Dad slid his hand down, letting go of John, putting his hand on John’s pubic bone, right above his dick. “I’d like to give you a special one, just for you and me. So that we’ll always be connected.” 

John’s heart skipped a beat, and he stumbled backwards, his bare butt hitting the mirror. Dad followed him, pressing John against the mirror. The Orange Clan was just an idea. Even if it was important and had power attached to it, it was just a concept to John. His Dad—his daddy—was real, and right in front of him, and so, so important in a way an idea never would be. John wanted to be connected to that, to him, forever. “Can I give you a matching one?” he asked, barely hearing himself. 

Dad kissed him, hand going lower. “I was hoping you’d ask, baby boy.” 

John would too. They’d always be connected. He wanted that more than anything. And he’d have it. He’d have everything he wanted. He really would. “I love you, daddy.” 

Dad’s “I love you too” was the last thing he said before he made a complete mess of John for the rest of the day.


	10. The Life of a Renegade Isn't Hard for the Reasons You've Been Led to Believe, They Have a Whole Mess of Problems Nobody Knows About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the final chapter of this story! This one is an interesting final chapter for me, because readers of the series will know mostly how it ends going in, but as always, there's a bit more to the story than we were told, so I hope that this final chapter is enjoyed by fans just this one story and fans of the whole series alike! 
> 
> I want to thank you all for reading all this time, I hope you all enjoyed John's journey! If you're so inclined, feel free to check out the rest of this series, where John and his family appear as supporting and main characters throughout. You can also follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HBtUaSPenguin) or join the series's (nsfw) [Discord server](https://discord.gg/6ShTTKp) if you'd like! but if you choose not to do those things, then thank you again for reading, I really appreciated having you all here!

“None of you are to speak,” said Mom, as they prepared to leave the island. John wished he could be as excited as he normally was about leaving the island. Normally it felt like escaping a prison. This time his jailers were coming with him. “The Sorcerer King is volatile and easily angered, and I won’t have any of you setting him off with your idiocy.” 

John didn’t need to imagine that she was directing that comment at him. She looked right at him as she spoke. John just made himself look fully at her, trying not to be afraid. Of Sorcerer King, of James, of her. And it worked. She rolled her eyes and shifted her glare to Dad. She wouldn’t hurt him. She needed him. John had stayed up all night last night, long after Dad had fallen asleep in his bed, writing spells. Combat spells, to give them an advantage over James, over someone who was way more powerful than any of them were, even together. 

Mom said it wasn’t supposed to come down to a fight, that the Sorcerer King was going to trap him. But John would rather feel silly for wasting a night of sleep than be dead for being unprepared. 

“You’re the one with the relationship with him,” said Dad, stressing the word ‘relationship’ just a little. Was mom having sex with the Sorcerer King? “We’re not interested in getting in your way.” 

“Good,” said Mom with a brusque nod. She was shorter of temper than usual today, seeming just on the edge of yelling already. Dad said she was nervous. “Let’s go, then.” 

They didn’t move. All four of them were standing in a spell circle, and Mom activated it as she spoke, teleporting them to the castle. Kay stumbled into John and John helped her up, and Dad clutched his stomach, but John just made a bit of a face. That had been a lot rougher than a teleportation spell needed to be, no buffer in it to account for changes in altitude or humidity, no atmospheric or light mimicry to ease the body into the new environment. Maybe he’d insist on writing the one to bring them home. There was no reason for travel to be that bumpy, and John was closer to the island then he’d ever been. He’d be able to get them back without anyone even noticing they’d teleported. 

They’d appeared in a featureless, square stone room with a lone window overlooking some mountains that didn’t remind John of the Hyllars near Punjga at all, jagged and harsh and dark. Standing outside the spell circle on the floor was a tightly dressed boy with dark skin and an impatient expression on his face, who looked tall for his age. He had really cool boots, John thought, laced up over his pants all the way to his thighs. They even had a little heel on them. John wondered if he could get boots like that. 

“Your Majesty,” said Mom, to the boy. 

Oh. This boy was the Sorcerer King? That explained why he was dressed so nicely. John bowed, figuring at least one of them should be polite, since it obviously wasn’t going to be Mom. She had never even bowed to the centaur chief when John had been a kid.. 

“Can I assume you’ve told your family about the plan?” The Sorcerer King—his name was Samson, John had heard Mom say it before—said. He wasn’t looking at any of them as he spoke. “I’m not having them screw everything up because you were too stupid to tell them what was going on.” 

Oh, wow. _Nobody_ talked to Mom like that. And John could see that Mom hated it, the way she clenched her first, just slightly. King Samson must be really powerful—or have some good leverage—to be able to get away with that, holy shit. 

“Yes,” said Mom, keeping her voice neutral even as she made a face. “I’ve informed them. Is everything ready on this end?”

“Yes, we’re just waiting for your son.” Did he really not see how she was looking at him? He still wasn’t really looking at them, or anything, actually, not that John was looking that hard. He was just kind of…oh, he was blind. Now that John _was_ looking, his eyes were just kind of unfocused. John felt bad for staring, and tried to look somewhere else without seeming like he was avoiding looking, which would also be mean. He settled for looking at the king’s boots again. John wanted to wear those, preferably with nothing else. 

Mom nodded. “I don’t suppose that James gave you a timeline for when he planned to arrive?”

“No. Just that it will be sometime today.” That, thought John, was just like James. Even when he’d been little he’d never committed to having anything done on time, least of all his chores. It had used to drive John crazy, because he’d always done his chores right away, and he and James hadn’t been allowed to go out and play together until _both_ of them were done. 

“I see. So we could be waiting here for hours,” Mom said, obviously looking for a reason to be annoyed besides the way the king had spoken to her. And when Mom wanted to be mad, talking about one of her kids usually did the trick. “Assuming he comes at all.”

“He’ll come.” King Samson sounded pretty sure of that. John wondered how he’d convinced James to walk into a trap. He didn’t think James was stupid, so King Samson but be pretty smart.

“If you insist,” Mom said, biting back a sigh. Was this how she always talked to the Sorcerer King? They both must really need each other, John thought, since they put up with each other when they clearly didn’t like each other. 

The room had a heavy, dark wooden door, which opened just then, admitting a boy who was…completely naked, except for a few leather straps on his chest and a metal cage on his dick that looked really heavy. “Excuse me, your Majesty,” said the boy, in a quiet voice. He was shaking a little, eyes on the floor, hair hanging in his face. He was scared. 

“What?” said King Samson, sounding irritated at the interruption. Did he make all his servants go around naked and in cock cages? Maybe John could work here for a week sometime. It might be worth it to try and fix the obvious rift between their families.

The boy moved forward a little, shuffling rather than walking, standing awkwardly, as if not quite on-balance. “Derek told me to come get you, your Majesty.”

The king sighed. “I have to go deal with something. I’ll be back shortly. If James appears, do entertain him until I get back.”

“Of course, your Majesty,” said Mom, and King Samson left them in there, banging the door shut behind him. 

They stood there together in silence for a minute. John resisted the urge to hug himself or lean on his dad. Something felt funny. 

“He’s younger than I thought,” Dad said, after a second. “He’s Kayla’s age.”

“He’s what we have to work with,” said Mom, still irritable. 

The castle shook, and John yelped, reaching for his dad’s hand. But it was just one small rumble and it stopped. “What was that?” he asked. It couldn’t have been James, right?

“Not an earthquake,” said Mom, going over to the window. “And not James, I didn’t feel any witchcraft.” 

“It must be an attack of some kind,” said Dad, hand on John’s lower back. “Castles don’t move on their own.” 

“No fucking kidding,” Mom growled, stepping back from the window as a shadow passed overhead. “There’s a dragon out there.” 

Oh. “We should go home,” John said, heartbeat picking up. “Dragons resist magic. If there’s one attacking the castle, King Samson won’t be able to stop it and neither will we.” John did know a spell that could theoretically penetrate a dragon’s magic resistance by slightly inverting its biological structure, but he’d never used it on an actual dragon. 

“Don’t be stupid, we’re not going home. It’s Samson’s spell, not mine, so I can’t take us back. And anyway, this is our only chance to catch James while he’s not expecting us.” 

“I can—”

“It’s not going to be our only chance to do that,” Dad said. “There will be other chances, Jocelyn, when we won’t have a dragon breathing down our necks.” 

“You don’t know that, and if we leave now, we won’t have Samson on our side when we confront James. He never leaves the damn forest, which means he’s always with my mother and sister and her little shits. He’ll be at his weakest here, and we’ll have allies . Not to mention that if we fuck off now, we don’t just lose _our_ ally, we make an enemy of him. Trust me, we don’t want that.” 

“You’re afraid of them,” John realized suddenly, whispering it even as he said it aloud, because he knew he shouldn’t say it. “You’re afraid of both of them, Samson and James both.” 

Mom turned the full force of her glare on John, who stepped back. “Not all of us are as cowardly as you, son.” 

John felt himself shake, but he took a deep breath. “But you are,” he said, not backing up any further. “You’re stuck between them and you’re not as powerful as either of them and James hates you and Samson doesn’t like you either. You’re afraid of them.” 

“Shut the hell up, John,” Mom warned, and the castle shook again. John told himself that, mad as she was, the castle wasn’t shaking with her anger. 

John sat down on the floor, reaching into his bag and pulling out some paper and ink he’d brought with him just in case. Sitting gave him an excuse not to look at Mom anymore, but without seeming like he was trying not to look at her. “If we’re staying here, I have to put together some spells in case we have to defend ourselves from the dragons,” he said, by way of excuse.

“We’ve got shield spells,” Kay said, edging closer to Mom. 

“They won’t be strong enough,” John told her. “They never are. If you come over here I can show you how to strengthen yours. Dragon fire isn’t just hot, it has an antinominal power and a acidic chemical structure that take a lot to block using conventional spell structures, but I know a trick that makes it more efficient.” 

“What, because you’re an expert on dragons now?” Kay sneered.

“I defended a village near Pungja from a dragon attack once,” John explained, only noticing a few seconds later that the room had gone quiet. He looked up. 

“You could have mentioned that at some point,” Mom said, glaring. 

“You didn’t ask. You’ve never asked what I did while I was there. It’s not my fault you don’t care about me.” 

“Of course it is,” Mom growled. “You’ve spent your whole life making it impossible to care about you.” 

That hurt but John pretended it didn’t, methodically working on his spells. “That’s enough, Jocelyn,” said Dad. John couldn’t help but smile to himself. “He’s trying to help get us out of this mess safely. Do you ever pause to think that people would be more willing to help you if you weren’t such a catastrophic bitch?”

“Excuse me, you pathetic little…Johnathon, stop laughing.” 

John hadn’t noticed himself start to laugh, but he didn’t stop, giggling as he wrote his spell. “It’s true,” he said, not able to hold it in. “You are.”

“Don’t you start, you spineless piece of shit.” 

“You’re spineless,” John said. “You don’t stand up to Samson, you’re afraid of James, you’re hiding from grandma. All you ever do is sit around making plans and being mean to people who can’t hurt you, because you’re too much of a coward to actually _do_ something.”

“You little shit.” Mom strode forward and whipped out her hand to smack John, magic infusing the blow. 

She struck the shield John was making, designed to hold off a dragon, and it snapped back at her, slamming her against the far wall. John giggled again, looking back down at his work. He started on the spell that would let him bypass draconic magic resistance, which John was pretty sure was anchored in their bones. 

Kay went over and helped Mom up, was pushed away. The castle shook again, worse this time. Dad crouched beside John. “Is there anything I can do to help, baby?” he asked, after a minute.

“No, I’m okay,” John said, caught up in working. This wasn’t that hard. And…Dad couldn’t help him anyway. None of them could. John was too much better than them. He didn’t need any of them, not for this. “I’m going back to Pungja after this,” he said, raising his voice so Mom would hear. “I’m going to study and live there. I’ll come back and visit sometimes. You can say you’ll kill me if you want, but we both know you’re full of shit.” 

Mom laughed, a harsh sound. “Would it have killed you to have grown up like this five years ago?”

John ignored her, went back to work. Something rippled through the air, and he looked up. “Did you feel that?” he asked Dad. 

“Feel what?”

John was silent for a second, assessing what he’d felt. A power not unlike his, but…louder, maybe. “It’s James. He’s here.” 

“He was supposed to appear in this room,” Mom growled, standing up. “So we could attack him before he got his bearings.” 

“So Samson lied to you,” said Dad. “Imagine that.” 

“Shut up, Kyle.”

“No, you shut up, Jocelyn. I want a divorce.”

This time, the shaking was accompanied by an obvious explosion, masonry falling, the floor rumbling. “Oh, shit,” John said, grabbing his spellwork and falling back, letting Dad pull him as the floor started to collapse. 

“Fuck,” he heard Mom say. The wall was giving out behind her, collapsing. It was going to crush her. John reached out a hand…

And let it drop. Let it crush her. 

“Mom!” Kay’s magic burst through the room, blasting the rocks away before they could kill Mom, pulling her over to the safe part of the room. John looked away, letting Dad hold him. 

A silence fell in the room, all of them breathing, well aware of what had just happened. 

But it didn’t last long. Emerging from the dust were three long centipedes, like the ones on the island. What were they doing here? 

And then one of them reared up in front of Mom. And _spoke_. “Hey, Tipsy. Guess what I know that you don’t?”

“What the fuck?” John asked, staring at it. That was no bug. On the island, they were just scary bugs. But here, there was a whole different energy wafting off it, something dangerous and evil. 

Also it was talking, so that was fucked up. 

“Don’t have time for your games, monster,” Mom snapped at it, getting to her feet and brushing dust off her clothes. “I’m busy.” She didn’t sound surprised. This must be some servant of the Sorcerer King. A demon, John thought. Sorcerers summoned demons. 

“You’re looking for your bundle of joy, I know,” a bug shouldn’t be able to sneer, but the one in front of Mom did. “Should I bring you to him?

“I’m making no bargain with you.” Mom headed for the door.

“Consider it a gift.”

John felt it, the demon’s power coalescing into a spell before any of them could do anything. “Wait!” John said, reaching out, his own power coming to the fore to counteract it, but it was too late. Mom was gone, teleported away. 

And then, an instant later, so were they.

They landed in another room in the castle, the window way higher on the wall. John coughed as he pushed himself to his feet, taking a second too long to realize that this room was also filled with power. Power he recognized. 

His power. 

“Ah, look who’s come to visit,” said a smooth, evil voice. The Sea King looked like a handsome western boy younger than John, with the strong chest and arms of a sailor, a pretty face and bright eyes that were currently looking down at John, amused. “I suppose you’re a distraction, but you’re an amusing one, so I’ll allow it. For now.” He was wearing a crown, necklace, a brace, some rings, and holding a sceptre made from bone. Those were where all his power was, where his soul was. John could feel it from here, the way they all connected to each other, to him. 

John backed up, pushing Dad and Kay away from the Sea King. “Stay back,” he told them, told the Sea King, told everyone. This was dangerous, fuck. 

Behind the Sea King were Constantine Hammerhead and Alanna. The two pieces of John’s soul, stolen by the Sea King. They looked good, intact. John’s eyes lingered on them, before sliding from Hammerhead back to the Sea King. Did they resemble each other or was that his imagination?

“Restrain them,” said the Sea King, holding out a hand. Magic curled around them, for all that he’d just ordered his people—John’s people—to do it. “This should be most interesting.”

“No,” John said. The Sea King was powerful, but John was no fucking pushover. He ripped through the Sea King’s hold, stood up. “Don’t touch them.” 

The Sea King smiled. He was pretty, but John barely saw that. “Surely you realize by now how badly you are outmatched by us, necromancer.” 

“It doesn’t matter how powerful you are,” said John, hoping his knees weren’t shaking as obviously as he felt they were. Behind him, he could feel Dad’s power working, softly. That was good, John wouldn’t be able to protect him as he crafted his own spells. It was harder when they weren’t there on paper for him to work out, but he was trying. “Nobody’s unbeatable.” 

“I welcome your challenge to my supremacy, then,” said the Sea King, reaching out for John. “You would be only the latest and least of those I have bested in single combat.” Power assailed him, and John’s dragon shield snapped into place, blocking most of it, though he was still pushed back. “Impressive.” 

“Magic isn’t just about power,” John whispered, still working on spells. “It’s about ideas. And I have a lot of ideas.”

Behind him, Kay vanished with a pop. “What?”

Dad stood up. “Sent her home. Can’t have you guys in danger. Your turn, John.”

“No.” John faced the Sea King again. “You go. I can handle this.” 

“I’m not leaving you here, John.”

John nodded. “Then stay behind me.” Hammerhead and Alanna were flanking them, but John kept his eyes on the Sea King. “This is my soul I’m fighting for. It’s my responsibility.” 

The Sea King was still smiling, hammering John’s barrier. “You know your shield cannot endure forever, powerful though it may be.” 

“I know,” said John. Now he smiled at the Sea King. “But I also know that I have something you want.” 

“Oh? Do entertain me.” 

“These two,” John said, gesturing at Alanna because she was closer. “They’re good servants, right? You like them.” 

“I admit, you performed an admirable feat in constructing them, piteous as your ability to control them turned out to be.” 

“I can make more. As many more as you want.”

“John…”

“Quiet, Dad.” John knew what he was doing, the spell coming together in his head. It tasted like white wine and fruit. 

The Sea King paused. “The last you spoke to me, you needed these two back because they were your only creations.”

“That was a while ago now,” said John. “Do you think I’ve done nothing since then? You’re just some jewelry that’s forgotten how to grow. I haven’t even started changing the world yet.”

A silence washed through the room as they stared each other down. And then the Sea King nodded. “I will require a fleet of such sailors,” he said. 

John tried not to smile. “As long as you can provide the corpses. And you’ll let my family go, and give me back those two.” 

“My Lord,” said Hammerhead, looking at the Sea King. “He’s lying.” Traitor.

“Perhaps,” said the Sea King. “But very well. I shall allow your father to go free, but I will keep these two and you will remain here until you’ve proven you can indeed do as you claim.” 

“Fine,” said John. The terms didn’t matter. It was the agreement that mattered. 

“John!”

“It’s _okay,_ Dad,” John said. “I know what I’m doing.” He took a step forward, held out his hand to the Sea King. “Deal?”

“Very well,” said the Sea King. And he took John’s hand and shook it. 

John’s spell took hold as soon as they were touching. A modified form of what he’d been prepared to use on a dragon, it turned the Sea King’s power against him for just a second, enough to expose the exact matrix that kept the pieces of his Regalia tied together, tied to him. His soul was in so many pieces, precariously and tightly knitted together by the jewelry in a tangle that couldn’t be untied. Not just one soul, John realized, as power coursed through him. Four souls, merged together. No wonder he was so powerful. 

“What is this?” the Sea King demanded. “What deception have you wrought, necromancer?”

“I’m not just a necromancer,” John whispered, power pooling in his chest. “I’m John of the Orange Witch Clan.” 

“And I,” said the Sea King, pushing back against John’s magic, his essence trying to right itself. “am the whole power of the ocean, you fool.”

John nodded, just once. “I know.” 

John didn’t push, didn’t try to use brute force. That didn’t work on the ocean, he knew that full well. Instead, as that power pushed against him, he gently took it and anchored it to his own, letting his power seep into the Sea King’s, finding the cracks and fissures and strings that kept him knitted together. The Sea King was smirking, obviously thinking he was overwhelming John, that John’s power wasn’t enough to stand in the face of the ocean, but John wasn’t trying to stand against the ocean, he was swimming in it, using the waves and tide to his advantage, just like his dad had taught him. He just needed another few seconds, just enough time for his spell to take hold, and then all he had to do was…

“John!” Dad pulled him away, breaking John’s physical connection with the Sea King. “Are you okay?”

“Dad!” John struggled, reaching out. He needed to dive back into the Sea King for the last part of the spell to take effect. “I’m fine. Let go, I need…”

“It’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you,” Dad said, touching John’s face. Looking at John and seeing someone else. 

“No, listen! I’m…”

“You’re going home.” 

“Fuck, no, you can’t!” John just needed _two more seconds_. All his power was directed at the Sea King, he couldn’t move his dad off him. 

“It’s okay, baby boy,” Dad said softly. He kissed John. “I’ll always love you.” 

“No, Dad, wait!” 

But Dad _didn’t listen,_ and John was hit with his spell, teleported away. 

He landed in a pile of snow, and jumped up, freezing. “Fuck,” he said, stumbling forward. “Fuck, fuck, no!”

He…he had to go back. He’d go back and kill the Sea King and get his dad and…he couldn’t. He couldn’t set up the portal, couldn’t teleport back. He couldn’t find the endpoint of the spell, couldn’t find where he’d just been, couldn’t find…

Dad had put a barrier around it, so he couldn’t get back. So John didn’t come and try to rescue him. He thought he was protecting John. He thought…

“Dammit, Dad,” John said, sitting down in the snow. “You fucking _idiot!_ ”

Dad hadn’t even sent him _home,_ what the fuck was this? He was just in some random snow in the middle of nowhere, exhausted and cold and alone, and his dad was back there in the castle, maybe dying or worse. 

No. No, Dad wouldn’t die. The Sea King wouldn’t kill him as long as he was a lure for John to come back and make him a fleet. Right? John had to hope the Sea King was as arrogant as he seemed. 

John stood up, looked around. There was a hill there, and he climbed it, freezing. He needed to get somewhere warm. He had to find a way back to the Sorcerer King’s castle. A boat, ideally, that way he was most likely to run into the Sea King. On the ocean. Where he was at his most powerful. John had barely stood up against him in an arid castle just now.

He couldn’t do this. John was all alone, had nobody to help him, nobody to support him, nobody to hold him.

_Would it have killed you to have grown up like this five years ago?_

No. No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to do this. Nobody else would save his dad. Nobody else cared about him. 

_It’s okay, baby boy. I’ll always love you._

“I’ll always love you too, daddy,” John said, into the wind. He would, always. But Mom was right, even if only about one thing. He had to grow up. If he’d been less of a baby back then, things might have gone differently. He couldn’t make that mistake again. There was too much at stake this time.

John loved being a baby, but he couldn’t sit and wait for someone else to fix this for him. His daddy didn’t need a baby right now. He needed a grown fucking adult who could do what needed to be done to come and save him before he got hurt. 

And John was going to be that adult. He was a world traveller and a genius and a member of the Orange Witch Clan, and he was going to rescue his father. 

There was a big city down there, surrounding a big bay. He didn’t recognize it, but it had what he needed. He’d go there, he’d get a boat and he’d go save his dad. John took the first step towards the city, feeling for the first time in months…no, in years, that he was doing something worthwhile, important. That his life had purpose.

That _he_ had purpose. That it had a direction, that he was moving towards something, instead of running or hiding from something. 

And now that John knew where he was going, nothing in the world was going to stop him, and nobody in the world was going to get in his way. No matter what he had to do.


End file.
